Chapter One: Scene I
Most people grow up, I assume, and things are normal. Parents argue, you go to school, your dad spanks you, your mom hugs you and life goes on. You get old, you accomplish things before your old and then you pass on…The End. Nothing really exciting or awesome about that, we can say that tons of people live bland and basic lives, I would say that. Apologies if my words offend, I just cant understand that life, an average life.
The room is spinning, Kindergarten and I have no idea how I even got here. I just lean back in my small little chair and watch as the ceiling, floor and people swirl around me. “Are you done backing the bowl, pass it here.” Years later the same feeling, room spinning and a feeling of relation and calmness sets over me, toking up. I realize that I was high and sitting in my chair at kindergarten while my teacher is spinning all over the place. 20 plus years to figure out that I was a high child, baked as a kindergarten. “We, your father and I, we never did drugs Trevor.” Shit.
My mother, bless her, she lies. Everyone lies I know, its the 21st Century and your not normal unless you lie, even a tad. I see it as this, that things become normal when the majority is responsible for partaking. It’s understandable, I lied through the majority of my 20s, almost every year up until about 24–25. We all do it, most for the very small majority who don’t, your welcome.
My parents, Carol and Albert, grew up on the West Side of Columbus. They met, I’ve know idea other then my father was 22 when I was born. Doing the math, an older brother a little over a year before me and I would say he was bout 20. Working fast food, my mother, is where they met and from there it was lust at first site. The hips on my mother drew my father in and I would imagine the longer curly blonde hair drew her in, opposites. It could have worked, anything can work if we try but this was toxic at and lust at first site.
Through my own few, only one serious and long relationship, I have learned. What is good and what is not, what I like and what I dong like but also what my parents went through. History has a way of repeating itself and at 22 I bore my first and only daughter, Isabella. Same blonde hair, blue eyes but not curly and long I found her mother at Taco Bell.
I would say that it was lust at first site but my intellect was relatively intact, just not enough. I was young, she was young and we both were attracted to the opposite, Black and White. I imagine it was similar to my father and mother, talking then straight to bed, the sex was good enough to keep it together.
We make mistakes in life, tons of them and sex is a major one we all make along our journey. As I was birthed, the second after my brother Devin I can see now the harm in shaking up. The devastation and turmoil that is caused, babies when were not ready and in our day and age disease we can’t even pronounce anymore. Yet, in August of 1989 I dropped out of my mother and into the docs hands, crying I’m sure.
We aren’t really meant to personally remember our births or childhood, all of it. Our minds developing quickly and making room to comprehend and learn all that is being forced into our minds. We keep what is needed and what hurts, some we suppress and others we keep the lesson and forget the memory. I can’t remember the bad shit, all of it, but I remember how it felt and what I learned from it. The room spinning and not knowing what was taking place is the youngest memory I have as a young blonde hair, blue eyed boy. Only later understanding I was high by putting the pipe to my lips and inhaling slowly as the smoke fills my lungs.
Trevor Dean Dennison weighing in at so many pounds, born sometime on the 18th of August 1989. A father and mother acting happy and proud to welcome another boy into the family. An older brother born in March of 88' somewhere in the room looking on curiously, to young boys seeking attention. Seeking compassion, love, concern and two parents who cared, father and mother. We got screwed, loaded deck, no shot at a fair and balanced life but what can two young boys do other then survive. We fought for our life, I’m sure of it.